


The Gentleman's Club Episode 9.5: Chuck And Drew Go To Golden Corral

by HandsomeManExpress (DangerousCommieSubversive)



Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling)
Genre: Annoying People, Comedy, Crossdressing, M/M, Restaurants, making a scene is always fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/HandsomeManExpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drew doesn't even know why he makes bets with Chuck anymore, but too bad, he did, and now he's at Golden Corral and Chuck's wearing a hot pink miniskirt and everything is terrible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gentleman's Club Episode 9.5: Chuck And Drew Go To Golden Corral

 "Why do you even _make_ bets anymore, Chuck, you always lose.”

"I don’t always lose! Sometimes Orange loses!"

"Be honest, when Orange loses a bet we all lose."

"Right, I guess. Did you ever manage to find your car?"

"Shut up, Chuck."

The point is, the skirt is very short. It's very short, and it's bright pink. So are the high heels. So is the lipstick. The shirt isn't pink, but since _when_ does Chuck have crop-top versions of his own merch? Did he _make_ it? It looks too evenly hemmed for him to have made it himself.

Drew pinches the bridge of his nose. “When did you learn to walk in heels? And why—wait, when did you get your ears pierced?”

The hoop earrings are big enough to wear as bracelets. Chuck's shoulders actually _bump_ them when he shrugs. “I have layers.”

“No you _don't._ ”

“Jerk.”

“I was hoping you'd wear something more tasteful.”

Chuck blinks. “Not following you here.”

“You know, classy.”

“Still not getting it.”

Drew sighs heavily. “Where did you _get_ this outfit?”

Chuck shrugs again. “At a store that sells chick stuff? This is what chicks wear when they're not in the ring, I've seen them.”

“I just...” Drew shakes his head. “Come on, let's go.”

He starts to head for the door, but Chuck crosses his arms and taps his foot and doesn't follow. “Aren't you _forgetting_ something?”

_“What?”_

“ _You_ said if you made me go out in _public_ like this you'd treat me like a _lady._ ”

“ _You're_ the one who's making us go out in public, though. You were the one who wouldn't just let me order you a pizza.”

Chuck doesn't budge.

Drew groans and offers Chuck his arm.

Chuck links arms with him, beaming. “So what are you waiting for, let's go get lunch.”

* * *

 

“Why don't we just go to McDonald's?”

“There's nothing I can eat there, the _air_ in there is barely kosher.” Drew's going to go nuts. He can feel it. There's a headache behind his left eye, and it's a special Chuck Taylor headache. “Besides, McDonald's is disgusting.”

Chuck huffs and says, snippily, “You never take me anywhere nice.”

“I should never have agreed to make that arm-wrestling match two out of three falls. Or I should have thrown the other two rounds.”

“But then _you'd_ be in a skirt.”

“ _I_ have good taste in clothing.”

“Don't tell me I don't look incredibly hot. I'm gonna be the hottest chick at McDonald's.”

“We're not going to McDonald's. I may owe you a lunch, but we're going somewhere _decent._ And _kosher._ ”

* * *

 

But Chuck is still Chuck.

So they go to Golden Corral.

The hostess at Golden Corral is remarkably calm about the entire situation. Actually, she's surprisingly complimentary, which is sort of a relief—at least, until she looks slightly _past_ them and says, “And is the, uh...gentleman in the hat also with you?”

Chuck nearly topples off his stilettos. “Holy _shit,_ Orange, when did you get here?”

Orange shrugs. “I think I passed out in Drew's car?”

_“When?”_

“Sometime...yesterday.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Are we having lunch?”

Drew hauls Chuck over to a table just as the hostess starts to tell Orange that they don't allow outside beverages. He tries to go for a corner booth, but they're all taken, and it's only through careful navigation that he manages to prevent them from sitting next to a family with three young children.

Someone across the dining room whistles as Chuck sits down. Chuck flips the guy off and says, “Fucking pig.”

“Chuck, this is a family resta—no, no, please don't clap, you'll just encourage him.” The headache is still lurking. It's getting bigger. Hairier. It's a goddamn Swamp Monster of a headache. “Can we just get our coats put down?”

Chuck has a tiny white denim jacket. Of course. _How_ is he even allowed _into_ Forever 21? For that matter, how did they have his _size?_ Did he go in the _fitting room?_

“ _Ohh_ my god,” says a woman at the next table, “that's an _amazing_ lipstick, where did you _find_ it?”

Chuck grins. “It was on sale at Rite Aid, it's Revlon.”

“I'm checking that out _today,_ oh my god.”

At least it's easy to get food Drew's comfortable eating. Normally he's not _that_ strict about keeping kosher, but _anything_ to avoid going to McDonald's with Chuck. Or fucking KFC. Drew is _so_ sick of KFC. Next to him, Chuck keeps up a stream of inane chatter, even more than usual. Mostly he's talking about how much his feet hurt.

Luckily, after a moment a woman next to them at the salad bar says, sympathetically, “New shoes, honey?”

So Drew gets some breathing room. At least until Chuck and his new friend finish talking about shoes and Drew hears, “So what promotions do _you_ work for? What's your finisher?”

 _Then_ Drew hauls him away.

“ _Drew-w,”_ Chuck says, grinning irritatingly in a way that doesn't at all match his tone, “you never let me talk to new _people._ ”

“You are _embarrassing_ me.”

“What, are you ashamed to be _seen_ with me now?” Chuck looks _way_ too pleased with himself. “First you don't want to take me out in _public_ , and now _this—_ ”

“Chuck, I swear I'm going to kill you.” Drew sits down heavily. “And I'm a lawyer, I know how to get away with it.”

“I don't even know _why_ I married you.”

Drew chokes on his soda. “Are you _trying_ to make a scene?”

Chuck puts his nose in the air and says, “Hmph.” Then, a moment later, he makes a hideous face at a preschooler walking past with his parents.

“...I can't take you anywhere.”

It all sort of goes downhill from there.

Because first it's, “You're ashamed of me.”

And then, “And poor Billy Ray over there, _he's_ always loitering around my clean house like a drunk,” indicating Orange (still arguing disjointedly with the hostess).

“Chuck, why do you have to do this to me?”

“Do this to _you?_ Look what you've done to _me!_ ” At this point Chuck's worked up so much momentum that he _can't_ be stopped. “I was pretty once! I could have been an actress! And then you came along with your flashy _coat_ and your _fancy talk—_ ”

Drew buries his face in his hands. “ _Please_ don't do this.”

“I _shaved_ my _legs_ for you.”

“Now you're just making things up.”

Children are staring. People are whispering. One teenage girl three tables over is taking notes and occasionally muttering, “You _go,_ girl.” And a man in a button-down shirt and a bearing that just _screams_ “manager” is approaching the table.

“Sir,” the manager says to Drew once he's close enough to speak quietly, “could I please ask you and your date to lower your voices a bit? You're disturbing the other diners.”

“He's not my date.” Drew sighs. “I'll do what I can. Chuck—”

“Don't you 'Chuck' me, you monster.”

The manager winces. “Ma'am, if you could just—”

Chuck's on his feet in seconds. “ _Ma'am?_ Are you saying I look _old?_ ”

* * *

 

_Five minutes later_

 

“Not only did you get us kicked out, you've gotten us banned from every Golden Corral in the country.”

Chuck rolls his eyes. “Nobody's ever gonna check that, don't be dumb.”

Drew sighs. “...you know what I want?”

“What?”

“KFC.”

“Hell _yeah._ ” Chuck stops at the car door and pulls his shoes off. “Let's go get chicken. Also, these things suck. These shoes? I hate them.” He throws them into the bushes next to the restaurant. “Man, how do chicks _wear_ this shit?”

As they pull out of the parking lot, Drew says, “Just so you know, I hate you.”

“Aw, stop, I'm blushing.”

* * *

 

_Five **more** minutes later_

 

Orange Cassidy wanders out into the parking lot and blinks. “Guys?”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Gentleman's Club Episode 9.725: Chuck and Drew Go To Macy's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220626) by [HandsomeManExpress (DangerousCommieSubversive)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/HandsomeManExpress)




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